


Incubus

by uofmdragon



Series: Natasha: The Demon Slayer [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Buffyverse, Alternate Universe - College/University, Demons, M/M, Watcher, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uofmdragon/pseuds/uofmdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha is adjusting to college life.  Unfortunately, she can't just quit being the Slayer. So when there are several mysterious deaths her and Phil are going to have to check them out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incubus

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to thyrza, ralkana, and ironfrog for betaing this.

Natasha leaned back in her bed. Classes had just started, and she already felt like she was falling behind; some instructors had reading they wanted done for the first day of class. Between classes and the grueling training schedule Blake had designed, she wasn't going to have much free time. Her Watcher wanted another training session tomorrow, so she needed to get these readings done tonight. Natasha was going to do it, though: she was going to graduate college _and_ be a Slayer. She’d find something that would allow her to do both jobs, though she wasn’t quite sure what that was yet.

Sighing, she forced herself to focus on her reading and notes. She flipped her Pandora station to something that would play only movie scores, no lyrics to distract her. She got one subject done and had started on a second when there was a knock on the door.

“Door’s open,” Natasha said, looking up.

The door opened just wide enough for Phil to stick his head through. “Hey, I was going to go to the library, and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with.”

Natasha’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “No thanks. That’s where Blake is, and I’m Watchered out.”

“Ah.” Phil’s face fell. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later, then.”

“Phil,” Natasha yelled as Phil’s head started to disappear from the doorway.

It popped back in. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you study here?” Natasha asked.

“You sure?”

“Of course I am,” Natasha said. “I have plenty of space.”

Phil nodded, stepping all the way in. “Do you mind if I sit on the spare bed?”

“Go ahead. My roommate still isn’t here, so...” Natasha shrugged. One half of the room was bare, because she didn’t want to spread out and then have to shrink back down when or if a roommate showed up.

“Right,” Phil said, toeing off his shoes before settling on the bed. “I can’t remember the last time I studied on a bed.”

“You don’t study in your own room?” Natasha asked.

“Well, no, because I have Barton as a neighbor and I never know when he’s going to crank the bass up.” Phil scowled.

Natasha arched an eyebrow. “He does that?”

“Yeah, never know when, and this is the second year I've lived next to him, so that’s why I go to the library all the time,” Phil admitted.

“Well, until I get a roommate, you’re more than welcome to study with me.”

“Thanks, Natasha,” Phil said, smiling. 

She smiled back and they drifted back to their books, the room quiet except for the sounds of them shifting as they looked things up. Phil was so quiet she could barely even hear the skritch of his pen. It was nice, peaceful, and far less lonely than it had been. Natasha lost track of time, at least until her stomach announced its displeasure. She frowned, trying to figure out the best way to bring up taking a break to Phil, when she heard an echoing growl.

“Ugh,” Phil said. “Man, it’s getting late. We might want to head downstairs, get some food while we can.”

“Yeah,” Natasha agreed, stacking her books up. Phil was putting his books away. “You can leave those here if you want.”

“I was thinking I’d drop them off at my room,” Phil replied. “I’ll meet you down there.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Natasha stood up, stretching briefly. They walked together for a bit before separating so that Phil could drop off his books. There was already a line forming when Natasha arrived just outside the dining hall, so she simply went to the end of it. It wasn’t long before someone approached, but a glance behind her ensured that he was no threat. A look of surprise followed by a pleased smile greeted her.

“Oh hey, I know you,” the guy said. 

Natasha stared at him, trying to figure out where she’d met him. He did look familiar, and his face was rather unique. “You do?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah, my friend tried to hit on you. I hit him in the head with a frisbee to get him to stop.”

Natasha blinked, suddenly recognizing him from that first day on campus. “And now you’re going to try your luck?” Natasha asked, turning to face forward as the line moved.

“Well, that would be pretty presumptuous of me,” the guy said. “How about a trade?”

“A trade?” Natasha asked, glancing back.

“My name for yours?”

“All you want is my name?” Natasha asked.

“I'll settle for it for now, and maybe some conversation while we wait in this line,” he said, smiling.

“Natasha.”

“Clint,” he said, offering her his hand. Natasha reached down and shook it, briefly. “You living at The Bus?”

“Yes,” Natasha said. “You?”

“Yeah, I kind of like dorm life, all the food that’s available.”

Natasha eyed him, because he didn’t look like he ate a lot. She arched an eyebrow.

“It’s all you can eat and…" He trailed off and she saw him stop himself from saying anything else. His smile widened as he added. "I've learned how to enjoy a full stomach."

“You’re enjoying it while you can?” Natasha asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Clint stated, as they approached the head of the line. “Also burn a lot of calories working out, I mean I’d hate to ruin this.” Clint lifted up his shirt, so that she could just make out the muscle definition. She glanced up and found his smile far more flirtatious than before. “Like it?”

“I’ve seen better,” Natasha stated.

Clint laughed as if she’d just said something particularly amusing. “I think I like you.”

“You do?” Natasha quirked an eyebrow.

“I have a thing for tough women that don’t take any shit,” Clint admitted.

“Not interested,” Natasha stated, because nothing Clint had done had appealed to her. She turned back to hand her ID card to the card swiper, who took it and deducted the meal from it.

“No?” Clint asked. She glanced back to find him pouting at her as he handed his card over. She was loath to admit it was kind of adorable. “Not even as... Oh hey, pizza!” The bright smile was back as he looked beyond her.

Natasha blinked at the sudden change in demeanor. She glanced down to see that he was correct, but when she looked back Clint was pouting at her again. “I know you’re faking that.”

Clint grimaced in chagrin. “I was hoping you didn’t notice my pizza love.”

“It was pretty obvious.”

“I’ll have to work on that."

“Yes, you will.”

“Anyway, as I was saying, friends, we could do that,” Clint offered.

Natasha snorted. “So you can complain about me friend-zoning you?”

“Only if you buy me a fedora.”

Natasha couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at that response. 

Clint’s smile grew triumphantly. “So, what do you say, have dinner with me and see if we can at least be friends?”

“I’m meeting someone,” Natasha said.

“Competition for your friendship or boyfriend material?” Clint asked. “Cause, I’d love to try to do the big brother thing and glare menacingly at some guy that’s trying to mess with my friend.”

“You try that and I might have to hurt you.”

“Fine, no glaring, I’ll just use my resting face.”

“Resting face?” Natasha asked as she came up to the servers, then ordered her meal. She glanced back at Clint to find him staring at her with a rather intimidating expression. She arched an eyebrow at that but Clint grinned.

“Resting face,” Clint explained.

“That is rather… frightening."

“Yeah.” Clint nodded, turning to get his pizza. They stepped out of the main line, and Natasha lost track of Clint when they split up to finish fixing their plates. She found a table that allowed her to easily see the entrance, and she wasn't too surprised when Clint spotted her and made his way over.

“Can I at least sit with you while you wait for your friend?” Clint asked.

“You’ll move when he gets here?”

“If that’s what you’d like,” Clint offered. 

Natasha considered him for a long moment. “I have a hard time believing you’ll move.”

“Okay,” Clint said, flashing her a quick smile. “Enjoy your meal, Natasha.”

“Enjoy yours,” Natasha said, watching as Clint sauntered off, head turning this way and that as he scanned the room. He ducked around a corner and Natasha lost sight of him. Natasha frowned, but she didn’t want to hurt Phil’s feelings by inviting someone else to sit with them without asking him first. Maybe later down the line; besides, Clint didn’t appear to be hurt by her rejection.

“Hey,” Phil said, stepping into her view as he set the tray down. “I got stuck in the line.”

“I had to wait, too,” Natasha said, smiling. “I had good company, though.”

“Yeah?” Phil asked.

Natasha nodded.

“They didn't want you to join them?”

“He did, but we were having dinner,” Natasha said.

"Oh, just one person?"

Natasha nodded. “Should I have asked him to join us?”

“You could have,” Phil said. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

Natasha nodded. “Next time, I will. I just... I didn’t know.”

“It’s cool,” Phil said, digging into his food. “So what are your plans for this weekend?”

“Studying and training, maybe doing some training with you?”

“Sounds good to me.” Phil smiled at the prospect. “I was thinking that on Saturday the gym should be empty with everyone at the game?”

Natasha nodded.

“I’ll reserve a room tomorrow, one with lots of mats.”

“Sounds great.”

*

Phil awoke on Friday morning when the scanner let out a squawk. Bruce grumbled, but quickly fell back asleep. Phil had hit the freshman lottery last year when he’d gotten Bruce as a roommate; he spent most of his time in the science department. Phil barely saw him, which was kind of awesome. Phil didn’t have an early class, so he was able to listen to the scanner as he got ready.

Two college students, dead, unknown causes, foul play suspected.

There wasn’t anything new by the time Phil had to leave, so he turned off the scanner for Bruce and stepped outside. He locked his door and turned, almost running face first into Barton.

“Coulson,” Barton stated, voice rough with sleep.

“Barton,” Phil said, tensing as he waited for the other man to say something. Barton just glared at him, and Phil sighed. He didn’t have time for this, he thought as he stepped around Barton. Phil glanced behind him and saw Barton trudging on to the bathroom. Phil shook his head; he didn’t understand Barton, and probably never would.

Phil went to his first class and pushed everything except for his class out of his mind until he had time to concentrate on it. Once class was over, he headed to the building's computer labs. He was able to snag a computer a few feet from a group of students that were talking about the frat party. They were full of gossip and apparently blamed the deaths on binge drinking. It was a valid theory, but considering the source was a friend of a friend, Phil knew he would have to find a better one. Luckily, Phil had one in mind.

He wasn’t a great computer geek, but his adopted sister Skye was, and she had no problems hacking into police databases or creating programs for Phil to do the same. He kept her software on a password protected flash drive that never left his sight.

Phil skimmed the reports and found the one for the dead college students. Witness reports that had been filed said neither of them had been drinking and that was unusual, since they had been found at a frat party. Preliminary reports said that they’d been found naked with abnormally large amounts of semen. Phil shook his head and copied the information to a file on his drive. Printing off the information, he then exited the hacking program. He grabbed the sheets and headed toward Blake's office. 

Blake was one of the few librarians to have an office in the back of the library. It doubled as the gateway to the room that kept the more delicate texts the university had. It made him relatively easy to find, because even if Blake wasn't in his office, he tended to be lurking nearby. Today, though, Blake was in his office with the door open; Phil knocked on the frame as he stepped in.

Blake glared when he turned to see Phil. “What the hell do you want?”

“I overheard something on the scanner this morning and did some digging,” Phil said, offering the man the papers. “I thought it might be something that Natasha should investigate.”

“Interesting,” Blake stated as he took the papers and skimmed through them. “But it sounds like a typical college party to me.”

“What does?” Natasha asked, stepping into the office.

Phil jumped, because he hadn't heard her come in. He managed a smile in greeting, which Natasha returned.

“Your _assistant_ thinks he’s got a case for you,” Blake said dismissively.

“Does he?” Natasha asked.

“No, he’s jumping at shadows.” Blake gave her a sharp smile.

“I trust Phil.” Natasha held out her hand for the papers.

“I’m your Watcher, sweetheart, not him,” Blake said, ripping up the papers and tossing them into a recycling bin. “He shouldn’t even be here.”

“He’s here because I want him here and he wants to be here.” Natasha looked at Phil. “Right?”

“Right,” Phil agreed. “I want to help.”

“You can help by walking away. Before you wind up dead.”

“I’m not going to end up dead,” Phil stated, struggling not to sound too defensive.

“You are,” Blake said. “You’re not trained for this. You’re playing at being a hero and you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I don’t intend to get involved unless I’m ready or needed,” Phil replied.

“You’re a weak link, and once the demons realize that you’re the chink in Natasha’s armor, they’re going to come after you,” Blake explained. “To get to her. You’re a liability.”

“He is not,” Natasha snapped. “I wa- _need_ to have at least one friend. Phil wants to be my friend, so he is.”

Blake rolled his eyes. "If you want to be friends and risk his life, fine. That doesn't mean _I_ should have to babysit him."

"Babysit me?" Phil spluttered. "I was trying to help!"

"You're not trained for this," Blake replied.

"Then train me!" Phil argued, looking to Natasha for support.

Blake laughed. "I don't have time to train you. I'm too busy making sure she's in top condition, so she doesn't end up dead." He stood and pointed in the direction Phil had come from. "Now, get out, so I can do my job."

Phil glanced at Natasha. He wished he'd known her for longer, because then he might be able to understand whatever she was trying to tell him with her facial expressions. Instead, he had to settle for her simply telling him, "I'll talk to you tomorrow about it."

Phil nodded, ignoring Blake. "Tomorrow."

"Now, if you'll come with me, Natasha," Blake said, gesturing for Natasha to follow him.

Phil glared at him as they walked away. The man was an asshole, but Phil was determined to find a way to prove himself to Blake, no matter what. 

*

Natasha waited for Phil outside the student gym. She usually jogged here, then used the weight lifting machines; today, it was mostly going to be hand to hand combat training with Phil. Well, more like an assessment, since she needed to see what he could and couldn’t do. She caught sight of a figure heading her way from the Bus and waved. The rising sun blocked out their features; whoever it was slowed and fiddled with their ear as they approached, and Natasha recognized Clint after a moment.

“Morning, Natasha,” Clint said.

“Morning, Clint,” Natasha replied. “Hitting the gym?”

“Yeah, gonna do some weightlifting, work on my six-pack.” Clint smoothed his hand down his shirt, pulling it taut over his abs. Not that it showed anything, and the look he cast her was more comical than seductive.

“Still not interested,” Natasha replied, but she smiled at the teasing banter.

“Ah well,” Clint said. “You going in?”

“I am, but I’m waiting for someone,” Natasha replied.

“Again?”

Natasha nodded.

“You are very popular."

“It’s the same friend.”

“I think I’m jealous! They get all your time and friendship and I don’t get any of it.” Clint gave her another familiar mock-pout.

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” Natasha replied.

“Probably,” Clint agreed, a smile blooming on his face. “But I’m going to have to change tactics.”

“Oh?”

“I don't think last minute things are going to work on you, so... are you busy tonight?” Clint asked. 

“No,” Natasha said. “Well, later in the evening, I am.”

“Okay, because there’s this party at Psi Phi and I was thinking that, since you’re new to the school, you should check it out with someone that will watch your back,” Clint offered.

“I’m not really into parties,” Natasha said, shaking her head.

“Well, open invitation.” Clint shrugged. “You can bring your friend, too, if that would make you more comfortable.”

“Thank you for the offer, but...”

“Think about it,” Clint insisted. “It’s the only party on campus tonight and everyone will be there."

"Only party on campus?" Natasha asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, Psi Phi tends to go all out on its major parties and everyone wants to come. It's a long standing tradition, so no other frats plan anything that night...and with the university trying to discourage parties…"

“Sorry, it doesn’t sound like my type of thing.”

“How will you know if you don’t try it?” Clint asked.

Natasha considered that and nodded. “I’ll think about it, but probably not tonight.”

“Fair enough,” Clint said, nodding. “Can I schedule a meal to share with you then?”

“No, but you might...”

“Barton,” Phil interrupted.

Natasha blinked in surprise. She'd been so intent on Clint that she hadn’t realized that Phil was there until now.

Clint turned at the voice, smile still wide, but tighter. “Coulson!”

Natasha's eyes narrowed at the hint of mockery in Clint’s voice. Phil looked defensive, like he was gearing up for a fight. Clint looked careless, but there was something at odds about his posture, as if he was carefully keeping that air of not caring. They obviously had history, and Natasha wondered what it was. Phil was easy to read, but Clint… there was something off about his body language, and Natasha didn't think that Phil had even noticed.

“I didn’t know you were still on campus,” Clint said.

“I live next door to you,” Phil stated. “We almost ran into each other yesterday.”

“We did?” Clint asked, staring at Phil.

“Yes, you glared at me until I got out of your way.”

“Huh,” Clint grunted. “I don’t remember that at all.”

“Of course you don’t. You were probably still high from partying the night before,” Phil growled.

Natasha caught the quick flash of hurt that crossed Clint’s features, before it smoothed into his customary carefree expression. Without that quick flash, Natasha would have bought it completely.

“Yeah, well,” Clint shot back, “Better to party than stay locked in my room all night, studying and playing TnT.”

“D and D?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, whatever, that thing you nerds do in your spare time,” Clint said, stepping away. He turned back to look at Natasha. “Let me know about a meal sometime, okay?”

Natasha made a noncommittal sound, watching as Clint headed into the gym. Phil glared after him.

“Asshole,” he muttered. He looked at Natasha with some trepidation. “Are you...?”

“He apparently likes to be shot down by me. You don’t like him, though?”

“No,” Phil said, folding his arms across his chest. “He and Tony Stark were friends, and two of the biggest assholes in my high school, and then we ended up at the same college together and I got to live next to Barton, which meant I saw Stark pretty often, at least last year. He's not around much this year, thankfully.”

“I take it they... bullied you?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah,” Phil said. “Them and most of the rest of the school.”

“That is horrible,” Natasha said, reaching out and gently patting Phil on the back.

“Yeah, but hey, I have you as a friend now,” Phil said, glancing at her with a little smile.

Natasha blinked in surprise, and then she smiled back. “Yes, you do. Now, come, let us see what you can do.”

They headed inside and Phil checked them in to the training room that they could use. Natasha caught sight of Clint once, already lifting weights, on their way to the room.

Once there, Natasha set to assessing Phil’s skills. While she was still superior in almost all areas of training, he was better than she'd expected, but then perhaps she had seen him as the nerdy type who preferred books over physical activity. It wasn’t true; Phil hid his muscles under his clothes, but they were there. She was going to have re-evaluate their training plan, and told him as much when they were finished.

“Yeah, I’m almost regretting not keeping up with my self-defense training,” Phil admitted when she did.

“You've had training?”

“My mother wanted me to be able to defend myself, in case the name calling turned into something physical,” Phil said, shrugging. “So I’ve been studying Brazilian jiu jitsu since I was a kid.”

“Smart,” Natasha agreed, tossing her towel in her bag.

“I'm going to hit the shower, and then... studying probably.” Phil frowned. “Maybe do some more research.”

“Research?” Natasha asked.

Phil looked at her. “So you remember how yesterday I had something and I showed Blake.”

“Yes. He was rude to you.”

“Yeah, well, whoever did it struck again last night. Same MO,” Phil said.

“Where at?” Natasha asked.

“Frat party each time. And tonight is Saturday, so there’s going to be a bunch of them.”

“No,” Natasha said. “Just one, and everyone’s going to be there.” Natasha blinked as she realized she was repeating Clint’s words. Surely, he hadn’t been implying that she should go for Slayer business. Clint knew nothing of this part of her life. He was just trying to get her to go to a party with him.

“Just one?” Phil asked. “Then whoever is doing this is...”

“Going to strike again tonight,” Natasha agreed.

“You should go. It wouldn't be hard to find a way in.”

“Clint already invited me,” Natasha said, and Phil pulled back to look at her.

“Clint?” Phil mouthed with a grimace, before shaking his head and focusing on what she said. “You should definitely go.”

“He said I could bring my friend, which would be you, so you should come too,” Natasha said. “I... I don’t want to go alone.”

Phil made another face, before sighing. “Okay, I’ll go.”

Natasha smiled in relief. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, you owe me,” Phil told her as he headed toward the door.

“Yeah,” Natasha agreed, following him toward the locker rooms, since she had to shower and change, too. “Phil, what do I wear?”

Phil stumbled, turning to look at her. “I don’t know!”

“But...”

“I have no idea about women’s fashion. You should ask someone else. Who’s your RA?”

“Pepper,” Natasha answered.

“Ask her,” Phil said. “She’s part of Tony’s crew, but she’s not like the rest of them, so....”

“Ask her,” Natasha repeated, nodding her head. “Alright. Thanks for at least pointing me in the right direction.”

*

“You can do this,” Phil said, standing behind Natasha as they looked up at the Psi Phi house. “You’re the demon slayer, you’ve faced demons trying to kill you. All this is is a bunch of college assholes that want to cop a feel.... I suppose that’s actually equally disturbing.”

“A little bit,” Natasha said, smiling at him.

Phil smiled back. “If you can beat up a bunch of demons, you can beat these guys up.”

“Thank you,” Natasha said. “For coming with me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Let’s do this,” Natasha said, heading up the stairs.

Phil followed after her, wondering if Barton was already there or not. Barton probably wouldn’t approve of Phil being here, but he had said Natasha could bring a friend. There was nothing Phil could do about it now, and Natasha could probably end it before Barton got too carried away, though it wouldn't necessarily look good for Phil if she did. Phil didn't care if she did, because then he would have the satisfaction of seeing Barton get his ass kicked. Phil wasn’t too certain that he could take Barton in a fight, despite his years of jiu jitsu; Barton always looked like he’d gone a few rounds with someone.

They attempted to stick together, but the party was huge, and after a moment, they decided to split up. Natasha made sure that Phil had her number, and they nodded at one another before going their separate ways. 

Phil kept his eyes open and his phone in hand, looking for anything out of the ordinary, though he really wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking for.

Phil bumped into someone and quickly apologized.

“It’s okay,” the guy said, smiling at him. “No harm, no foul. You don’t look familiar.”

“I don’t normally come to these,” Phil admitted as he looked up into a pair of gorgeous green eyes.

“No? Why not?”

“I’m here to learn, not to party.”

“You can’t do both?”

“I want good grades,” Phil said, aware of how lame he sounded to someone that seemed to enjoy partying.

“Admirable,” the man said, leaning in. “It’s kind of loud. Why don’t we go someplace quieter?”

Phil hesitated, but there was something about those eyes that made Phil nod his head. The guy took Phil’s hand and started guiding him out of the party. He followed along, not wanting to give up that physical contact, and then someone knocked into Phil hard, spilling beer onto him.

“Watch where you’re going!” a familiar voice slurred at him. Phil glanced away from the guy and found Clint Barton brushing himself off. “Aw, beer.”

“You ran into me!” Phil defended himself.

Barton froze, glancing up, and Phil realized his mistake. Those sharp eyes were on him. “Coulson? What the hell are you doing here?”

“You invited Natasha, and Natasha invited me.”

“Right, Natasha,” Barton said, with a dreamy grin. “I’d ask if you were chasing after that skirt, but we both know you don’t like that type of skirt.”

“Really?” Phil asked, arching an eyebrow. “You’re going with that? I’m comfortable with my sexuality, Barton. Find some new material.”

“It’s not old material, barely anyone here knows,” Barton said, pausing. “Does Natasha know? Think she’d be cool with hanging out with a-”

Phil threw a punch to shut Barton up. He did not need to be outed in front of a room full of stuck up frat boys that would probably kick his ass if they knew he was gay. He was surprised when the punch actually landed. Barton stared at him, and Phil swallowed right before Barton decided to hit back. It wasn’t really much of a fight; Barton threw himself at Phil, and the punches were hard. Phil did his best to defend himself, though it didn’t last long before Phil was being pulled away from an angry looking Barton.

“C’mon, Barton, you know the rules, no fighting,” one of the frat members said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Barton said. “He hit me first.”

“Only because you were being an asshole again,” Phil spat.

The frat member looked at him. “Well, you both can take it outside. We don’t need the cops getting called on us.”

He escorted Phil and Barton outside, and Phil winced as the door slammed shut behind them, leaving the two of them alone on the porch.

“You’re lucky, I really like Psi Phi,” Barton said, heading straight for the stairs. “And I really don’t want to see them on suspension.”

Phil watched him saunter off, blinking when Barton turned away from the dorms. “You’re going the wrong way,” he called after him and got flipped off for his troubles. “Idiot.” Phil followed after him, though he paused outside the gates, realizing he should probably text Natasha and let her know that he had just gotten kicked out.

“Hey,” a soft voice said behind him. He jumped, turning to find the guy that had been flirting with him earlier.

“Hi,” Phil said shyly. “Decide to leave the party?”

“You got kicked out. It was less interesting.”

“I’m not that interesting,” Phil said, blushing.

“You are to me.”

“Um, Phil.” He extended his hand.

“Isaac.”

“Nice to meet you, Isaac,” Phil said. “Um, I think we were going to find a quiet place to...” Phil trailed off as Isaac leaned in to kiss him, pressing Phil up against a tree. The way Isaac kissed was intoxicating, slow and hot. Phil moaned into the kiss, feeling himself getting harder. Isaac squirmed a hand between their chests, finding one of Phil’s nipples to tease it through his shirt. Phil pulled back with a gasp, and then started to lean back into the kiss, but something flew between them. It didn’t hit Phil, but the breeze in its wake caused Phil to turn and spot the arrow that was embedded in the ground.

“What the hell?” Phil said, staring at it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Isaac purred, leaning in to nuzzle at Phil’s jaw.

“I take it you haven’t seen many movies, but that’s called a warning shot,” a low voice growled from another tree. Phil jumped in surprise, scrambling away from Isaac and trying to spot where the voice was coming from.

“A warning shot for what?” Isaac asked.

“For you.”

“Me?” Isaac asked. “I haven’t done anything besides meet a handsome young man. Do you have a problem with gay men?”

“Nope. I got a problem with killers, though,” the voice said, and Phil was able to spot him in the trees. He was braced on the branches, bow drawn and aimed right at Isaac. “Especially when they go after cute, smart guys.”

“Me?” Phil asked, staring at the guy.

“You must have me confused with someone else,” Isaac said. Phil looked over at him and he had to admit Isaac had a point; he really didn’t look dangerous. "I'm not a killer."

“I’m not confused,” the archer said.

“Are you sure?" Phil asked. "Because you just called me cute.”

“I’m not,” the archer stated. “You’re human. And cute. He’s, well, he’s not exactly human. Or cute.”

“If I’m not human, then what am I?” Isaac asked.

“A demon -- incubus, to be exact,” the archer said. “A gay one, apparently, which hey, cool. What’s not cool is how you and your partner basically sexed four guys to their deaths over the last two nights, and you were going to make him victim number five.”

“An incubus?! Demons?" Isaac spluttered. "Please, Phil, you don’t believe in demons, do you?” 

Phil was already stepping away, because now he remembered reading about incubi last year and how they sucked power through a person's nipples, and Isaac had been pretty quick to go for Phil’s nipples.

“Actually, I kind of do,” Phil answered, still backing away.

“Really, you seemed so modern,” Isaac said, following him until another arrow cut him off.

“Your choice, incubus: leave town and live, or keeping going after him and die.”

“My sister is here,” Isaac said. “Shouldn’t I wait for her?”

“Well, bad news: she’s in there with the Demon Slayer, so she’s probably already dead,” the archer said.

“The Demon Slayer is a myth,” Isaac stated.

“No, she’s not,” the archer argued.

Isaac fell quiet, and Phil looked sideways at him, meeting his eyes. Isaac suddenly moved toward him and Phil barely had a moment to take in the vicious look on his face, stumbling backwards, before Isaac was on him. A split second later, there was an arrow in Isaac's head.

Phil stared as the body started turning to dust. He didn’t hear feet hit the ground and run towards him. He did feel a hand close around his bicep and pull him away.

“Are you okay?” the archer asked, and Phil was surprised to see the man was no taller than Phil. Phil met his eyes under the hood and they were filled with genuine concern.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” the archer said, cupping Phil’s cheek and running his eyes over Phil’s body to make sure that he was indeed alright.

Phil wasn’t sure what to do with that, but he forced himself to pull back. “I’m not some damsel in distress.”

“I would hope not,” the archer said, looking down towards Phil’s crotch.

Phil was about to ask what the hell was going on, when Natasha yelled his name as she came running from the direction of the party.

“He’s okay,” the man said.

Natasha stilled. “Hawkeye?”

“The one and only,” the archer said, with a bow, before stepping away.

“What are you doing here?” Natasha asked.

“Four deaths during parties, biggest party of the week.” Hawkeye shrugged. “Kind of figured they’d show here.”

“How’d you know he was a demon?” Phil asked.

“I have my ways.”

“How?” Natasha asked.

“Come now, Slayer, I can’t give away all my secrets,” Hawkeye said. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

“I don’t know anything about you,” Natasha said.

“I saved your friend from death by incubus sex,” Hawkeye replied with a grin.

“That doesn’t tell me much,” Natasha said with a glance at Phil, her expression concerned.

“I’m fine,” Phil said. “A little shaken up, but I’m fine.”

He glanced up to look for Hawkeye and found him gone.

“Who was that?” Phil asked.

“A friend, I think,” Natasha said. “I’m not sure.”

She reached up and gently touched Phil’s face. “You’re hurt.”

“That’s from Barton, we kind of got into a fight,” Phil admitted.

“Why?” Natasha asked.

“He was trying to start some shit and I hit him.”

“So he succeeded.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Phil agreed.

*

Natasha tried to stay cool all weekend, but she could tell that Phil was bothered by something and she wasn’t sure what. She intended to wait until he came to her about it, but there was one thing she could do. She knew Phil was in class on Monday morning, but she didn’t think Clint was. The door opened to reveal a scruffy, half-asleep Clint, with a face that would look intimidating, if Natasha hadn’t heard him call it his resting face.

“Natasha?” Clint asked. Natasha was pleased to note the beginnings of a black eye.

“We need to talk,” Natasha said.

“About what?”

“Phil.”

“Phil?”

“Coulson, your neighbor. The one you decided to verbally attack on Saturday,” Natasha said.

“Yeah, I may have been a little drunk.”

“I don’t care,” Natasha growled. “You leave him alone.”

“What?” Clint asked, staring at her.

“You leave him alone,” Natasha growled. “I’m not telling you to apologize, because we both know you wouldn’t mean it, so I’m telling you to leave him alone.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll regret it,” Natasha replied. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“So you just decided to wake me up to threaten me?”

“Yes, because Phil is my friend and you... aren’t.” With that she turned and left, leaving Clint standing in the doorway. He didn’t say anything as she walked away, and Natasha refused to look back.


End file.
